The Morrigan
by TheNoblePorpoise
Summary: Susan Newman is not having the best of days. Not that you could when you accidentally create a toxin better that the Master of Fear's own recipe.
1. Chapter 1

And now for something completely different. This is dedicated to my dear Captain as she is the one who introduced the idea that I should write into my skull.

Wench.

As for the title of this little romp through the Batman universe, it was also Captain's idea.

Morrigan is a celtic battlegoddess whose chosen people go into a berserk rage. Or something like that.

And, as always, I own nothing but my original character.

**Beware!** This fic has bad language and adult themes. Viewer discretion is advised.

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It was an ordinary day, or as ordinary as it could get at Star Laboratories. We had been rather busy lately, having just made several major breakthroughs. Not only had we developed an aggression inducing-formula, but I had personally developed a fear toxin that was believed to be stronger than the Scarecrow's. Basically, we had found a way to make liquid emotions that could be mixed and matched to the client's specifications.

With these new techniques we could revolutionize the medical world. If we could distribute other emotions we had extracted, as cheesy as it sounds, we could make the world a better place. Depression would be a thing of the past, pain would be a minor inconvenience, and fear would be easily erased. Of course we could do those things if Star wasn't so concerned with profit.

As the head of these projects, I had been "asked" to concentrate on the fear and anger toxins. "Ask" meaning "if you don't do this, your funding goes to the sexual aid department." The scientist in me rebelled. Regardless of how unpleasant the source material may be, I was obsessed with my work, _my_ discoveries. Not only was I obsessed, I was possessive, too. Obviously. My therapist told me I needed to control my negative emotions. She also told me I needed to find a new job. As you can probably tell, she told me many things. I think she was too busy trying to run my life to have one of her own.

_Maybe tomorrow I'll tell her that my hermit crabs told me to blow up the hospital, maybe that'll shut her up. At least if she had me committed to Arkham, I'd get some peace and quiet from her constant nagging._

Okay, maybe she was right. Maybe I did have anger issues. Yeah, well, who doesn't? And why do I care? Maybe I should introduce myself. Hi! My name is Sarah Newman and I'm albino. A fact of which I am constantly reminded. This blaringly obvious fact is always commented on, as if I already didn't fucking know. I'm a little sensitive about my coloring, or lack thereof. As a child I was constantly bullied and tortured. I had hoped that people would be more mature as we grew older. Boy, was I wrong. The people I worked with at Star were just like the children who made me afraid to go to school.

Even as I walked through the halls to my lab, yeah…_my_ lab, I could hear them talking about me. Frigid bitch is the term I hear most from women. Bitch is right, frigid is not. I'd talk to those bimbos if they had anything interesting to say. Most women may be jealous of me, I believe. Not only am I a freaking genius (modesty, who needs that) but apparently I'm fairly wanted by the male population. I think it's because most of these men are shallow, idiotic creatures who only want to screw something exotic, and I'm the one nearest at hand.

It's easy enough to get rid of these cretins by glaring at them. At this point I should mention that my eyes are a vibrant shade of red. All of my coworkers, if you could call them that, were easily intimidated by me when I kept direct eye contact with them. A ploy I used as often as I could; it was amusing to watch accredited doctors squirm. Me sadistic? Never. Whatever gave you that idea?

Regardless of how I may sound, I've always been very quiet. I prefer to keep silent about the stupidity of others, although the inner rantings and brutal mental murders are never-ending. Those anger issues again.

_Maybe I should take self defense classes again. The workouts would be therapeutic._

So, as I said, it was a normal day. People were quiet as I walked by, but their whispers would follow me to my lab. It was blessedly silent there. With a fridge near the door and a couch in the far corner, it was very comfortable. I often stayed there for thirty-six hours at a time, only going home for showers and the mail. Hell, I would have lived there if the chemical showers had warm water.

But I digress. The day passed quickly and peacefully. Since security knew I was going to stay the night, they locked me into the building. If I wasn't nose deep into my work, I might have noticed when that happened. Most of the time I didn't, and when I did notice it didn't mean I cared. Ah, apathy. What a wonderful bedfellow you make.

Although the day was normal, almost boring, the night was anything but. I'm usually blissfully oblivious to everything around me when I work, but even I couldn't miss the loud crashing that came from the back of the building.

Well, shit. Apparently, someone was trying to rob the labs. I turned off the lights, grabbed my umbrella, and hid behind my desk. Even though my umbrella was fairly strong and had one of those sharp, knifelike ends, I doubted that I could take on the small group heading my way. Besides, if they wanted money they would head to the main office.

Of course, if they wanted the money they wouldn't be picking the lock on the door clearly labeled "Lab 5." If it were actually a thief, wouldn't they make less noise? _Fuckity fuck, fuck, fuck! They're after my work!_

_I think I need a hug._

They opened the door. My heart felt like a jackhammer and I was quite positive I was going to be maimed, tortured and/or killed. I gripped my umbrella tighter. I was not going down without a fight.

"Find it," someone hissed.

I flinched as the lights were turned on. _I am going to die. _There was no way that I was going to be missed, now. My only chance was to surprise them enough to make an escape. _Let me say this again: I am so going to die._

When I saw a shadow come close enough, I got ready to attack.

When the perfect moment arrived, I pounced. I hit the man across the stomach and tried to push past him. He recovered quickly and grabbed my arm, slamming me into my workstation. I hit the ground hard and look up just in time to see all of the completed rage serum heading towards me.

From that moment on, all I could feel was agony. A vial must have shattered on impact because my left eye was gone. I could feel the burning in my veins as the rage serum entered through the ruins of my eye. I could hear someone screaming. It took me a moment to realize it was me.

I don't know how long I was there on the ground, thrashing and screaming, but I knew when the serum had taken effect. The pain faded as white-hot rage filled my body.

I pushed myself to a sitting position and gently probed my left eye. The damage was extensive as the orb was gone and I could feel my blood coating the left half of my face. I was amazed at the absence of pain or fear. My heartbeat was steady and my sight was clear. The most important fact, though, is that I was angry. Very, very angry. They could take my work. I may not like it, but I could always make more. But my eye…What is that saying? "An eye for an eye." Well, my friend, an eye is just the down payment, so to speak.

I looked to the bastard who did this to me. He was staring at me in horror. There were others there, but my attention was focused on one man. I retrieved the umbrella and stood up slowly. He was staring at me in shock. Expecting me to be unconscious? Who cares. His ass was mine.

I must admit it, though. The rage serum is clever, creating a stable supply of adrenaline among other chemicals. My point is that not only does the serum make a subject extremely pissed, but stronger, faster, and immune to fear and depression, as well.

Quite handy, that.

So it came as quite a surprise when I ran the bastard through with the umbrella. He fell heavily to the ground, gurgling and twitching for a few moments. As he lay there dying, he was still staring at me. I gave him a big cheerful grin as I kicked the handgun from his grasp.

"Thanks," I chirped happily. "Merry Christmas to you, too!" Who cared if it was summer! The Christmas spirit isn't relegated to December, is it?

This was an internal debate for another day.

I looked up from my musings. I was surrounded by several armed men. I just grinned at them and waved happily.

"Hi there!"

Did I forget to mention that the serum, when in the system in large doses or for a long time span, has driven many test subjects to insanity? I didn't? Well, I just did! Hyuck!

A tall, thin man stepped forward. He was dressed as a ragged scarecrow. It wouldn't have taken a genius to realize that this was _the_ Scarecrow. The most striking thing about him was his vibrant blue eyes. _It just isn't fair! No one with a penis should have eyes that pretty._

He stepped closer to me, spreading his arms in a welcoming manner.

"Good evening, Dr. Newman. Tell me where the toxin is."

I merely pointed to the broken vial lying in the pool of my blood. I continued to grin inanely; it seemed to make his henchmen uncomfortable. It was pretty damn funny. Although a bloodied woman with one eye who just killed a man with an umbrella must be unnerving…

I must have drifted off for a minute because the next thing I knew, Scarecrow was right in front of me. Did he think he could scare me? I was immune.

"Where is the formula, D. Newman?"

I merely tipped my head to the side and grinned wider. At Star Laboratories, it was fairly common to write your notes in code or to memorize them. People don't pay those who made the formula, but those who have the formula.

"You will tell me, Dr. Newman."

_Really, now? I'm sure that you'll just let me scurry free after that, won't you? Yeah. I believe that._ He moved even closer to me. So, he thought he could gas me? I nearly laughed. He raised his arm towards me slowly, palm facing me and fingers spread.

"Last chance to tell me, Dr. Newman, before I rip it from your mind."

I kept smiling, even as the toxin surrounded me. I even took a deep breath as though scenting a delicious aroma. The looks of shock that adorned the faces of the henchman were too much. I started laughing. Cackling, really. But that's semantics and I didn't have time to think about it then. Seeing the Scarecrow's bright blue eyes wide with shock is something I'll remember for the rest of my existence.

After several minutes of laughing, I stopped suddenly. Someone needed to keep them on their toes. It was completely silent in the room, all eyes on me. _What, do they want me to tap dance? I haven't done that in _years

I eyed the Scarecrow again. I had heard about him, and his past. I had always felt sympathy for the fellow childhood punching bag. This was the driving force behind my next actions.

I hugged him. I even gave him a kiss on his burlap-covered cheek. Hee hee. I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing maniacally again. The henchmen started to back away from me, like I was crazy or something. Was I crazy? I mean, I just lost my eye, skewered a man on an umbrella, and hugged a supervillain. _Nah, I'm not crazy, I'm fun. There's a difference._

During my musings, the Scarecrow's eyes had not left me. Wide-eyed and looking uncomfortable, he continued to stare at me. He seemed to come back to himself, especially after I waved my hand in front of his face. _Ya know, what he narrows his eyes like that, I can't tell if he's pissed or just really, really unhappy._

Before I could actually figure out if he was going to ghost me or hug me back, the lights went out. Cue Batman's dramatic entrance. In the chaos that ensued, I was able to sit down next to the ruins of the serum and my eye. Apparently I lost a fair amount of blood because everything went even blacker…if that's possible.


	2. Chapter 2

This little romp into the darker side of my psyche is dedicated to Techie.

Happy Belated Birthday, smushy face!

Once again, Batman and all related characters aren't mine.

Coarse language and dark themes, blah blah blah!

Release the giant ninja shrimp with the ability to emit EMP bursts!

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I woke up surrounded by white. It was soothing. Apparently, I was in a hospital. The story was that the Batman swooped in, fought the bad guys, and rescued me, the so-called "damsel in distress." When was I ever in danger? I was having the time of my life!

The nurse came in at this time, chattering nonstop. She thought it was "like, so totally awesome" that Batman saved me. She kept asking me questions but never gave me any room to answer her. Not that I would have; it might encourage the little twit.

If the doctor had not arrived at that time, I don't know what I would have done to shut the little bitch up. Do you think I could have shoved her head up her own ass? If I ever discover where she lives, I'll be sure to answer that question. Maybe a few other biological questions I have. Can you rupture your own voice box by screaming too much? We would have such fun together.

The doctor was far less annoying. He told me the basics about my injuries. During the night I had undergone emergency surgery. They removed the remaining structures of my eye and cleaned it. I'd be scarred for life. Shocking news, that. I'd get to go home in a few days and when I had healed completely I could get a glass eye. Woo-hoo. I can barely contain myself.

The days passed slowly for me. I was silent all of the time. There was no reason to speak. All of the nurses and doctors thought I just need time to get over my traumatic experiences. All in all, it was an amusing week.

I was sent home with a clear bill of health and an offer from the police. They wanted to put me in a protection program, as the Scarecrow was still on the loose. Jim Gordon was a nice man to be worried about me. Regardless of how many times I told him I was fine, he still decided that he was going to check up on me periodically. I had to resist asking him if his moustache was real. Hee!

I was given a nice sum by Star Laboratories to keep their lack of security and some "sensitive" matters quiet. I considered selling them my formulas, but they would just waste my achievements. With the tidy sum of cash that I acquired from Star, insurance, and disability, I could afford to play around for some time.

I decided to invest in some combat courses. With my altered state, these classes were somewhat challenging. If I had gotten angry, the rampage that would have been triggered might have sent me to Arkham, or to Hell. I like being alive, thank you very much.

Months passed. There was no sign of the Scarecrow. If he was still after me, the frequent visits from Gordon and Batman deterred him. Yes, Batman watched me. The authorities had never officially solved the murders I committed. The popular belief is that I did it in self defense or one of the other henchmen did it. Whatever Batman believed, he watched me on his quiet nights. Whether he was trying to protect me, or watch me because he thought I was dangerous, I don't know. I don't particularly care, either.

Gordon and I became very close. We would drink coffee in the mornings together. I liked him; he took all my peculiarities in stride. It never disturbed him that I was constantly silent. I guess I became his therapist. He would tell me about his cases, the problems his department had, even the trouble his kids got into. He even trusted me enough to watch after his younglings on the nights he and his wife went out. Great little creeps, they were. The man even made me visit him on Thanksgiving. For Christmas, I bought him a motorcycle. He liked it; his wife didn't. I gave it to him in November, though. It still counts as a Christmas present!

Gordon took to buying me a variety of eye patches. I don't know where he found some of the more amusing ones, but I really want to know. His wife even took to crocheting them for me. Needless to say, the Gordon family and I became rather close, and I was very protective of them. So, on nights when the Batman and Gordon were busy, I would watch his family. Between what I had learned from courses both normal and less-than-legal, and the effects of the rage serum, I believe that I could handle any threat.

Most nights saw me wandering the streets. I enjoyed the cold. What else could I do? With the exception of the Gordon family, I found most people intolerable and unamusing.

It was on one of these nights that my quiet lifestyle was destroyed.

I was wandering one of the more dangerous neighborhoods when I saw a lone man being tailed by several thugs. His imminent ass-whooping made me feel icky. It was Christmas! Besides, I was itching for a fight.

I fell into step behind the group of men. How could that guy not notice these men? They weren't stealthy at all! In fact, they were the opposite of stealthy! Those suckfaces! I even had time to pick up a large iron pipe. I knew that I had a few knives on me but I really, really wanted to hear the sound of a pipe hitting flesh; it always sounds so fake on television. Not only was I doing this in the spirit of Christmas, it was educational, too! Talk about having your cake and eating it.

These guys were morons. Not only were they as loud as a herd of elephants, they made it quite obvious when they are about to strike. _They must be newbies to the thug lifestyle. No one with any experience would suck this badly. I'm ranting, aren't I? Time for little Susie to come out and play._

They had the guy cornered in a dead end. It was another mistake for them not to post a lookout. You never know when someone might interrupt. Like me, hee hee! I moved closer to them and caught what they planned to do to the guy. _Ew. That's just disgusting. I know that the guy is way too pretty, but that's just wrong._

They were much too busy with arguing over who got first dibs to notice me emerge from the darkness. My pipe was about the size of a bat, so it would be just like baseball. _Maybe if I'm lucky I'll hear a skull crack! Oooo! I'm so excited._ The first dumbass was in my sights. _The pitcher winds up, here's the pitch! Hey batter batter! SWING! Oh, we won't be seeing that one again, folks!_

One dumbass down, six to go. _Oh dear, all the idiots are staring at me._ I think the sound of that guy's skull splitting open caught everyone's attention. This would be fun!

"Who the fuck are you, bitch?"

Bitch? Bitch! It may have been true but it still pissed me off. I could feel the rage building and it was beautiful. I let it grow. It's not like I could let anyone there live. A one-eyed albino isn't that hard to find. I decided to have a little fun with them first. A little exercise never hurt anyone.

"The Morrigan."

I grinned.

And then I pounced. You could just hear my gleeful laughter over the screams. The battle didn't last long enough. I gave the last idiot a few more smacks with the pipe (I freaking love that sound) before turning back to the shmuck. I found cool blue eyes staring at me. The Scarecrow was barely recognizable in that getup. Oops. I guess that means I killed his prospective test subjects.

I walked towards him slowly. I really couldn't resist. The fact that I was covered in blood mattered little. I gave in to my urges and gave him another hug and another peck on the cheek. _Now I'm not the only person covered in blood. Hee hee!_ I got two steps toward the alley entrance before everything went black.


	3. Chapter 3

Yarrrrr: Not mine. Coarse language and blah blah blah.

No like, no smegging read.

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I woke up to the sound of voices. It took a minute for the memory of my abduction to return. I thought it best to play like I was still unconscious, but that didn't last long.

"Good evening, Dr. Newman."

Was it sad that this was becoming routine?

I turned my head to the side and groaned. I wasn't really in pain but until I knew what he was going to do, he didn't need to know how aware I was.

"Open your eye, Dr. Newman."

I did open it, briefly enough. It was enough to see that I was surrounded by a large group of men with the Scarecrow next to me. The possibilities for fun were endless. I could barely contain my grin.

"The formula, Dr. Newman. Tell me."

I moaned quietly and began to whisper some of the basic components. I needed to get him closer. I figured since I was strapped down to some table, quite tightly, that he might consider it safe enough.

Bingo! I felt his body heat on my arm. I had loosened the ties that held my right arm down, the arm closest to him. All I needed was for him to get closer. I had the perfect distraction planned.

I cracked my eye to see where he was. He still wasn't closer enough. I moaned, again, and clenched my face in pain. I must have looked harmless, or at least like I was really out of it. I started speaking even more softly. He needed to be closer!

"Scarecrow," I whimpered.

That got his attention. Oh, he was definitely close enough. I could feel his breath on my face. _Someone likes Earl Grey. Mmm, I want some tea. Argh! No! Concentrate!_

"Tell me, Susan."

_We're on a first name basis now? Aww, does someone think I'm pretty?_ I always thought my red eye patch made me look dashing. _It's time to play._ I popped my eye open and cracked a large grin at him.

"Peek-a-boo."

I crushed my lips into his. With his jaw slackened from shock, it was easy to deepen the kiss. It didn't last long; he ripped himself away from me, but it was long enough to get me what I wanted: the sedative in his pocket. _Operation Feminine Wiles_ _is successful._

The look on his face was one that I'll forever label as a cherished memory. Just to further immortalize this moment, I licked my lips and cracked a sexy grin.

"Mmm, I like Earl Grey. Think I could have a cup?"

The look on his face was indescribable. Once again, we had reached another point in our relationship where I couldn't tell whether he wanted to finish what I started, so to speak, or strangle me with my own intestines. And once again, Batman prevented me from finding out.

He announced his presence by disabling all the lights. He seemed to do that a lot. Why didn't he try something different? He could try dropping in dressed as the Easter Bunny or in drag. That's sure to strike fear in the hearts of evildoers.

I used Batman's distraction and the cover of darkness to release myself from my bonds. Once my eye adjusted to the darkness, I was finally able to see the Bat Man in action, and he is a sight to behold. No wonder he has so many fangirls; he's damn sexy.

And a bastard, apparently. He had already finished the goons and moved on to the Scarecrow. This had to be the world's most one sided fight. Scarecrow had already got a bloodied lip, a bloodied nose, a black eye, and probably other injuries I couldn't see. He must have done something to really piss off the Bat, because he was on the ground and the Bat was still coming.

_Oh, God, I think I'm fixing to do something really stupid. At least it's not a bad way to go. I'm damn sure this will be fun. As they say in Azeroth: For the Horde!_

Whatever Batman may have expected from this encounter, he probably didn't expect to be hit over the head with a pipe and injected with a sedative. There wasn't much in the syringe, so he wouldn't be out for long. I grabbed the Scarecrow by the arm and pulled him up. It was time for us to haul ass!

--

It took time and effort to drag him to a safe place. At least, I assumed it was safe. The Scarecrow gave me directions while I lugged his ass around. That man is heavier than he looks.

We were in a spacious little abode somewhere outside the city, maybe in the suburbs. I wasn't really sure. Besides, I had bigger things to worry about.

Scarecrow was a mess. He was even bloodier than I was, and that's saying something. Batman really did a number on this guy. I was up for hours cleaning and bandaging his wounds. Every once in a while he squirmed, but he was unconscious the entire time. With nothing to do but wait, I left him in bed to scrounge for food.

I was ecstatic to find the kitchen well stocked. I wasn't sure when my last meal had been, but I took this opportunity to gorge myself. I made soup for the Scarecrow, though. With that shiner blooming on the entire left side of his face, chewing wasn't going to be much of an option.

I didn't have to wait long for him to wake up; it seemed that the temperature fell twenty degrees. It seemed like it dropped even further when I actually entered the room with his meal. Woo boy, can that man glare. _I think someone is a mite unhappy._ I could feel his eyes following me as I set his tray within reach. As I turned to leave, I was startled by his voice.

"Why?"

I stared at him. I didn't really have a reason. Maybe it was because I thought he was pretty. Well, he is! Or maybe it was because I hated to see him beaten. Not only was that unfair, but it reminded me of my own less than stellar childhood. Or maybe it was because of the fact that being around him usually ended up with me having fun. Probably that. Hee! Regardless of the possible reasons, I didn't know which one, but I decided to answer him anyway.

"Why not."


	4. Chapter 4

Not mine, yadda yadda yadda.

There are bad naughty things in here so if you don't like then why the hell are you at chapter 4?

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The little house was one of those places where time seemed to stand still, once we settled into a routine. In a good way, of course. I might have left him there had it been otherwise. Yes, yes, I know. I'm a bad kid. Whatever.

As I said before, we fell into a routine. He was an early riser, so at 8:00 A.M. I'd bring him breakfast and the newspaper and a few books. Same thing with lunch and dinner. He always studied me. I wonder what he was trying to figure out. I didn't really look into it too much. I was too busy being thankful that I didn't have to haul his ass to the bathroom. Or bathe him. There are some things I just don't need to see.

Things didn't change much when he was able to walk around. I still cooked the food, I still stole the damn newspaper, and I still had to haul his ass to bed when he was too tired to do it himself.

Yes, I said I had to steal newspapers. It was pretty freaking annoying. The reason? They fingered me for the murders of the men in that alley and for helping the Scarecrow escape. I was on the news, baby! Apparently someone had heard my rather short conversation with those idiots, as I was now known as the Morrigan. I had a supervillain name now. Awesome!

So I had to be extra careful when I had to "acquire" food, funds, and books. We were both avid readers, and what fun is there in reading a book twice in one week? I didn't go out often with the whole police force and Batman after me. _I'm leading a charmed life, I tell you._

While I was out, I also took the opportunity to steal some chemicals. I felt that I deserved some playtime. I wasn't able to make much of anything, though. I didn't have the contacts that Scarecrow did, so I had to make do with what I had.

Of course, it was unfortunate when I had to use my rainy day toy earlier than expected. Apparently I wasn't the only one visiting the outside world. Scarecrow had been leaving the house occasionally and had been followed by the Bat Man. Once again, he had been cornered. Once again, it was up to me to save his ass. Hopefully, I could do it before the savage beating this time.

Batman had the Scarecrow by his neck up against the wall. Yet another shiner was blooming on the Scarecrow's face. I was getting tired of having to fix this man every time he got in trouble.

"Crane! Where is she?"

"Right here, toots."

He whirled around to face me, only to get a face full of my new and improved fear toxin. It slices, it dices, it sends large rodents spiraling into their deepest nightmares.

We left Batman twitching on the floor as we made our escape. It didn't take long to get to our new hidey-hole. It was about the same as the house except for one difference.

It had a lab.

That's where the Scarecrow dragged me. Yes, dragged me. Apparently, there was a bee in his bonnet or a stick up his ass. All I know is that he was excited about something. That something was my fear toxin. He grabbed me by the arms and pulled me close to him.

"Tell me how to make it."

Did he think he was intimidating me? Obviously he had forgotten that I had seen him in his skivvies. I shrugged free of his grip and made my way to his stash of chemicals. He had everything I needed and more. I gathered up the required chemicals and placed them on the lab workstation. I beckoned him to my side. I was going to do better than just telling him, I was going to teach him.

--

He learned quickly. After all, he's a freaking genius. Soon he was tweaking it. He put it in an aerosol can, made it more potent; he even changed the damn color. It was fascinating to watch the man work. He even put it into his wrist canisters.

I could tell he had something big planned. What it was I didn't know. I didn't care to know, either. I was there to keep him from getting his ass kicked, not that he needed my help. That man was armed with enough toxin to fumigate half of Gotham. Only one thing was holding him back, though. He needed to test the serum further.

He knew that it worked. It worked very well, if Batman's episode was anything to go by. The only problem was that he was unsure of how long it lasted, especially with the modifications he had made.

Why he didn't test it on me is yet another thing I'm uncertain of. He probably realized that I was still under the influence of the rage serum. I'm sure if he wanted, he could have cured me. I probably could cure myself, you know, if I actually wanted to. Maybe he actually found me useful. I did make a rather good bodyguard, if I do say so myself. And I do. Or maybe he actually found my company interesting. Either way, he kept me around.

So I was off to find test subjects. It was really easy. Pick up a frat boy here, a tourist there. God, these people must be retarded. They know Scarecrow is on the loose, they know what he does, and they know he's been picking up victims recently. Well, I'm the one who's been picking them up but that's beside the point. Did these people think they were invincible? Did they really think they had nothing to fear? How wrong they were. We enjoyed the echoes of their screams for a long time.

After we had tested the toxin, and then some to tell the truth, he decided there were specific people he wanted to target. Well, mainly one person: Rachel Dawes. There was only one problem: Batman.

The solution to this problem was deceptively simple. While I had helped the Scarecrow, I had never been seen by anyone still sane enough to tell the tale. There was no real proof that Susan Newman and the Morrigan were one and the same. It was believed by the police and the public that he had murdered me after he had stolen my formula. There had even been a body found whose dental records matched perfectly. That was damn hard to pull off, I tell you.

For all intents and purposes, I was dead. Who could be better to kidnap Dawes? The Scarecrow was even going to cause a distraction to draw the Bat away. Not that it was much of a chore for him. How could releasing the toxin at a free concert not be hilarious? I only wished I could be there to see it. Sigh.

It's easy to follow someone, learn their routines and habits. It's even easier when you're dead. The preparations took less time than I had expected. It took less time to learn Dawes's behavior than it did to train the hired help. I wasn't going to be around to watch his back. I needed to make sure these people were intelligent enough to actually protect the Scarecrow should his fun be shot to shit.

But soon I was reasonably sure the henchmen would get in Batman's way long enough for Scarecrow to get away. What can I say? He's not the physical type, and I was tired of seeing him get his ass kicked. I liked the little bugger.

The day arrived sooner than I had expected. I followed Dawes all day. It was around 8:00 P.M. when everything went down. I knew it was time when she answered her phone.

"Scarecrow? At the concert? I'm on my way."

_No, Princess, you're going on a little vacation._

She didn't put up much of a fight when I pulled her into a darkened alley. The same alley, in fact, where the Scarecrow kidnapped me. She screamed loudly and constantly. Did she actually think anyone was going to hear her and care?

Thankfully, the screaming stopped once she was sedated. What an annoying little bint. It was easy to get her back to the hideout. No trouble, no suspicion. All I had to do now was wait for the boss man…_I hope she screams as loud for him as she did for me._


	5. Chapter 5

It isn't mine. How sad and obvious.

--

We didn't have to wait long for his return. I assumed that he was anxious to begin her therapy, but it had to wait. One of the idiot henchmen had neglected his job, and the Scarecrow was injured. Again. What would that boy do without me to put him back together?

Apparently Pete, the dumbass, was too busy mugging some concertgoers to actually protect the Scarecrow and Batman was able to grab him. He was able to get away from the Bat by wrenching his arm from Batman's hand. He could still move his left arm some, but he wouldn't be doing any heavy lifting for a while. Not that he really did much of that to begin with.

He must have been in some pain because he let me drag him to the lab with only one little glare. He didn't even struggle when I started stripping him. _Not like that, you pervert. Gutterfaces._ His shoulder had been wrenched horribly and he had hand-shaped bruises on his wrists. Needless to say, I was mighty pissed by the time I had finished tending to him. I decided it was time for a little demonstration.

We gathered everyone in one of the bigger testing rooms. Scarecrow even dragged Dawes into the room. I never told him what I planned to do, but he must have decided it would be beneficial for Dawes's "therapy" if she saw it. When all of the goons had been lined up in a neat little row, I started my version of fun.

I slowly walked up the line, making eye contact with each of the men. It was a boost to my ego that each one of them looked away first. I took my time, dragging it out. Ah, the suspense was wonderful. Once I had reached the end of the line, I started walking behind them in the same fashion. The tension in the room increased tenfold. I made sure to walk silently. I wanted them all to sweat.

By the time I had reached Pete, all of the men were nervous wrecks. I had tired of this game and decided that it was time to start the real fun. With my trusty lead pipe, I could take on all of these morons at once. It was immensely satisfying to hit Pete in the back of the knees, especially since he hit the ground screaming. I followed that with a blow to the back of the neck. It wasn't enough to knock him out but it made it easier for me to drag him to the chains in the center of the room and chain him down.

"Pete, here, has failed, and now it's time for him to be punished. The rest of you are going to watch what happens when someone fails. Consider it a learning experience."

Once Pete had regained full consciousness, I set about my work. Did you know that there are some chemicals that enhance pain? When you mixed those with medications that prevent bleeding, anything was possible. Including skinning someone alive, strip by strip.

It took a long time for me to expose the muscles on is face, chest, and arms. He never stopped screaming. I didn't think he could get any louder until I used the bleach to clean what blood had been spilled. I had considered using alcohol, but he really didn't have to worry about the risk of infection.

I had always wanted to be a doctor when I was a child. Although I could never go back to college now, it was never too late to learn. Plus, I had questions. The question that I had decided to answer was "how many intestines could be removed before the person died?"

The answer I received was an hour and thirty minutes. I do realize that doesn't apply to my original question, but it was still fascinating. By the time I was finished, the men were shaking in fear. Some had even emptied the contents of their stomachs. Even poor little Dawes was weeping.

"Clean up this room."

What a wonderful evening.

--

Dawes's treatment began the next day. We had left her chained up in the room where I had demonstrated the price of failure. She was even in the same chains that Pete had occupied. I hoped she found her surroundings tolerable, because I didn't have to make the men clean up. She could have spent the night with Pete. Then she wouldn't have been alone. Heh.

I didn't know who she was more afraid of when the Scarecrow and I entered the room. If she would use that brain of hers, she would realize that I wasn't the biggest threat. Honestly, Scarecrow was about six inches taller than me, dressed like Raggedy Andy, and carried enough toxin to freak out the entire population of Malaysia. All I had was a lead pipe and a nasty tempter. Besides, I wasn't the one holding a rather nasty grudge.

He decided to be thorough in his treatment for Dawes. He cooked up a special batch of toxin for her. Apparently, Batman has been known to create the antidote for any toxin he can get a sample of. While his first dose of my toxin may have exited his bloodstream before he could have his blood taken, Scarecrow wasn't going to take that risk.

This toxin was very special. It only took one dose for the "patient" to lose all sanity, but it was a long road. All the research we had conducted showed that this process took several days in which the victim's hallucinations would grow in intensity until it wasn't possible to wake back up. The most important thing was that the process was irreversible.

A fact that the Scarecrow made quite clear to poor little Dawes after he had gassed her. The toxin took effect quickly. She was crying and shaking, trying to put as much space between her and the Scarecrow as possible. Not that she could get that far with those chains on. He was whispering things in her ear that only made her wail louder. He even beckoned me closer, playing on her fear of me.

Her episode ended too soon, though. Using her strength of will, she was able to overcome the beginning stage of the toxin. But will could only last so long. Soon she would be reduced to a weeping mess only to come back to herself for a short amount of time. Then the process would repeat itself over and over, each bout of normalcy becoming shorter.

She lasted an hour before the toxin took hold again.

I watched as the Scarecrow took his revenge. I didn't really know what she did to him, but I knew she was the one who gave him those scars on his cheek. His eyes filled with unholy glee as he watched her. _Aww, he's having so much fun!_ He didn't get out often enough. It was good to see the boy enjoy himself.

Soon she pulled herself together again. It took longer this time, and her control was even more fragile. He just stood there and watched her, which made her very nervous. I was pretty sure my snickers from the darker corners of the room didn't help. She could only keep her eyes on one of us at a time while I was behind her. I couldn't help it; it was too damn funny to see her twitch when I made noise.

We kept the fun going for hours, but even supervillains need their rest. I had a room set up nearby so that he could still hear her screams in the night. I was sure he would sleep very, very well.


	6. Chapter 6

I can't think so well right now. New chapter. Bad language. Yaddayaddayadda.

* * *

The second day was similar to the first. Scarecrow would whisper to her, she would scream, cry, and twitch, and I would laugh maniacally. We were one big, happy family.

Until the lights went out. Yay, Batman. Watch me dance for joy.

I was by the Scarecrow's side in an instant. Me and my lucky lead pipe.

I could tell Dawes and Scarecrow couldn't see in the pitch black, but I could. Batman probably could, as well. Regardless, I couldn't see Batman, and Scarecrow and I were in the open. It was time to go.

I grabbed him by his uninjured arm and pulled him towards one of the exits. We didn't get far as Batman stepped in front of us.

Shit. He did _not_ look happy. He charged toward us. I had enough time to push Scarecrow out of his way, but no time to defend myself. The loud crunch I heard as I landed told me I'd broken something. Considering that I landed on my left side, I thought that something was several ribs.

My pipe landed far out of my reach, and there was no way I could reach it before Batman ripped my face off. I just hoped Scarecrow was taking this time to get the hell out of there.

I kept my head down, giving the impression that I had lost consciousness. Like I thought he would, he leaned over me to either check my condition or tie me up. He didn't get the chance. I punched him as hard as I could in the face.

Oooo. Crunchy.

I used this time to reacquire my pipe. I turned around in time to see a fist heading toward my face. Yet again, I heard the crunch of bones breaking. We started exchanging blows. With his body armor and my inability to feel pain or fear, this was going to be a long battle.

I lost all sense of time as we fought. I could smell the metallic scent of blood. I could hear him asking me to stop, saying that I was losing too much blood. I didn't understand any of it, though. I could only understand the blood rushing through my veins, the pounding of my heart, and the rage burning inside of me.

He got in a lucky blow that caused the pipe to go flying across the room. It didn't deter me. I would not stop. The blood loss had slowed me down, it was getting harder to move, but _I would not stop_.

I knew it was over when he grabbed my leg before it hit him. He twisted it. I felt, rather than heard, the sound of my ligaments tearing.

I landed heavily on the ground, getting the breath knocked out of me. I didn't even have the energy to growl at Batman when he loomed over me. I felt so sleepy. Would a nap really hurt?

I was nearly asleep when I heard Dawes yell out a warning. Scarecrow to the rescue! Batman may be nearly superhuman but even he can't withstand a lead pipe to the face.

"Get up."

He had to help me to my feet. The little bugger was stronger than he looked, and to say I was surprised would be an understatement. I never thought that he would save my ass, much less that I would need him to. I'm going to have to bake him a cake or something.

Somehow, we escaped to a car and made it to a safe place. I'm not exactly sure how I was still conscious after the beating I took. I could barely make it to the crappy sofa before I collapsed.

I was too tired to keep my eyes open as he began to tend my wounds. He was being absurdly gentle with me, considering he knew I could feel no pain. The last thing I heard before I finally passed out was his voice as he quietly began to hum a nursery rhyme.

--

I woke up to the bright sun shining, birds chirping, and other examples of poetic crap. I was almost completely covered in bandages; even my nose was in a splint. I might not have been in any pain, but I was still rather tired. I found it so hard to move that Scarecrow had to feed me.

I was just thankful that my jaw wasn't broken and that I could hobble to the restroom. I wouldn't be able to live off of soup and milkshakes for months on end, and I definitely didn't want to force him to help me with my basic bodily functions. That was just…ew. I didn't have to do that for him and I definitely was not going to make him do it for me.

I don't know how he could stand being in a bed for such a long time. Even with the newspaper and books that he brought me, I still found myself extremely bored. My escape attempts weren't remotely successful. I would swear that he has some sixth sense, because the instant my feet touched the floor the man materialized in the doorway, glowering.

I was confused about the whole rescue thing, though. I knew that I was a good meat shield, but I didn't think he liked me enough to save my busted ass. Maybe he didn't really like me. He probably did it to drive me up the wall, wondering if the bastard was actually fond of me or just found me useful.

_Need to stop thinking. It's making my head hurt._

Everyone knew I was alive now. I was quite proud to know that I was just as wanted as the Scarecrow. Apparently, we were quite the duo. It was funny, really. Some even speculated that we were wildly in love, a scientifically gifted Bonnie and Clyde having passionate monkey sex every 13.48 minutes. _Honestly, where do people think this shit up? Fucktards._

Scarecrow found out some interesting news from one of his more reliable sources. The toxin he used on Dawes worked perfectly. Reportedly, she was admitted to Arkham Asylum, screaming about "Scarecrow and the red-eyed demon." I thought it was rather flattering that someone would never, ever forget me.

Two weeks passed, slowly and uneventfully. Unfortunately, this peace didn't last. Somehow Batman discovered where we were and, you guessed it. He announced his presence by cutting the lights off. Again. Did the man have no creativity? Or would I have to beat some into him?

I grabbed the gun that Scarecrow had left by my bedside in case of an event like this. I didn't have to hobble far to find Scarecrow; he grabbed me as I passed the lab door. We had an escape route to the sewers in there. Although unclean and rather icky, the sewers were an easy place for people to lose themselves.

I leaned against the door, still too weak to help with the grunt work. I was strong enough to push over a bookcase to block the door when I heard footsteps approaching. I could barely hear the low timbre of Batman's voice as he informed the rather large group of policemen where we were.

"Shit."

I could feel them trying to break down the door. The escape hatch had a sturdy lock on the inside; it would be enough to hold the police off while Scarecrow made his escape. Even if the bookcase could hold long enough for me to limp over there, I would slow us both down. My decision was made.

"Go."

He stared at me. I was unable to decipher his expression, considering that he was wearing his mask and that the door was fixing to break.

"Jonathan."

That got his attention. I had never called him by his first name before. He knew how serious I was.

"Just go!"

He fell into the darkness. I didn't let go of the door until I heard the lock click.

"Open the door!"

_All righty then, if you say so._ I stepped back from the door. The only thing I could do now was buy Jonathan more time.

I fired a shot through the door. They didn't know it was just me with only one clip. For all they knew, I could have a whole arsenal in here. Was this a "Mexican standoff," so to speak? What can I say? This was going to be fun.

It wasn't long before I ran out of bullets, but I hadn't just been doing that. I did my best to block off the escape hatch even further. Just in time, too. It didn't take them long to realize I was out of bullets.

They stormed the room in full-out body armor and gas masks. It must have disappointed them to find a defenseless, half dead woman instead of a supervillain. I didn't go down easily, though. I hit, kicked, bit, and even scratched until they were forced to hold me down and sedate me.

Yay.


End file.
